' ""',' f,--..- þ ' , - . :- > -. : -.: ' .-" ,- - , _.--. ./ <-/;://;' . ' ... . .... \ i" r ' / . ,. ". . .".' , . < '.: " , - . 18 . ! : f , ; I \ f: - I .. : ; \ ; ( ., ' t' < · ; , . ,. J : {I # . \ í : - - 4110 v- THE NEW YORKER _ ::"//ø!, '. . - " -:.: '- " , - '.' , - [WHISK R INSPfCTION AT THE CfNTURY CLUB. _ _ -::-.'. . ,.INDEED A QUAINt 'OLD ENliRAVING BY .. '-: . t: .' - . ,. . - _ -- _JOHtLHELD.,.JR.,..J9ZS =- - -. -..,...- . . -- . : } . ., . . i i . '. ! f'. . I . " ! , } . [1: i! ": t ..'''''. . III <II I WHAT I WOULD NOT Do IF I WERE A CLIMBER I WOULD not claim I did not like publicity, that the family did not like publicity, that I always hated to see my name in print, not to speak of my picture, and then make an ap- pointment with every photographer who has asked for a sitting (or even one photographer who has asked for a sitting) the aforesaid photographers having added the statement to their re- quest that they always liked when they could gain the permission of the sitter, to show the artistic results of their peerless productions to Town & Country, Vogue, Vanity Fair, Harper's Bazar, The New York Times roto- gravure section, The New York Her- ald Tribune, The New York World, and so forth. If I wanted publicity, or if I thought publicity would avail me any- thing, I would go about getting it superintended by the best taste I could muster-and I would say nothing. By saying nothing, I should not be provid- ingmy enemies with facts to use to my disadvantage; or my friends with feathers with which to tickle their sense of humor . -'; SOCIAL HINTS I should never allow my mother, guardian, wife, or other relative or dominant element-including my own straining impulses-to give a private party and invite a photographer, that he might make pictures for souvenirs of the occasion. There would be the possibility of a doubt on the part of the guests holding positions of consequence in society, when they noted the pic- tures in print, that "souvenirs" formed a synonym for some other word. I should not attempt, in the name of sweet charity, eccentric stunts-wire walking, sword swallowing, turning hand-springs on Fifth Avenue, eating three dozen eggs in three minutes in the show window of a famous white- faced restaurant on a wager, or scale the lamp-posts in aviators' costumes. It is certainly no crime to be a social climber, but it also adds no prestige to the personality by applying Barnum and Bailey methods in advertising the fact; and charity begins at home. I should not invite important persons I did not know to come to my parties. They have had that happen before, and their inference is obvious. It is not likely to impress them half so much, or in the same way, as it does others who note them "among those presen t" . I should not use names. I should not work them so hard that I gave the impression of having swallowed the Social Register, after I had picked out all the right names. Also, I should consider guarding against a too easy assumption of friendly relations. This lesson is driven home by the following, and similar, stories: A benefit was being planned and one of the ladies told the chairman of the committee, in tones of assurance, that she knew very well a Miss M., a much respected and highly placed member of society. The Chairman later asked Miss M. If she would not like this lady on her team of workers. "Have I met her?" was the vague re- sponse. "But anyone you recommend, my dear, is sure to be good!" All social claims come home to roost, sooner or later, but not always with feathers in their caps! -A SOCIETY EDITOR